


Axioms of Congruence

by coffeerepublic



Category: Yu-Gi-Oh!
Genre: Anniversary, Birthday, Established Relationship, F/M, First Meetings, Kissing, Reminiscing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-25
Updated: 2017-01-25
Packaged: 2018-09-19 20:39:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,862
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9459584
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/coffeerepublic/pseuds/coffeerepublic
Summary: It's not only Joey's birthday, but also your first anniversary.





	

**Author's Note:**

> So, it turns out today is Joey's canon birthday.
> 
> And despite the fact that I have been obsessed with him for something like sixteen years (which is more than two thirds of the time I've been alive, just to drive the nail deeper) and have been writing about him for something like seven years, I have never written anything birthday-related.
> 
>  
> 
> That had to be remedied.

Once the last pancake was done you turned off the stove and added it to the pile already waiting on the plate next to you. There were at least eight pancakes and a half (your failed first attempt), the ones at the top significantly closer to the color pancakes were supposed to be than the ones at the bottom. You were not a talented or practiced chef by any means, but for him, you had decided to try.

You carried the plate over to your small kitchen table where you had already set up two more plates, cutlery and anything your refrigerator had offered that seemed to go at least semi-well with pancakes. Birthday breakfast, all nice and ready. Now all you were missing was the birthday boy – who incidentally also happened to be your boyfriend.

Tip-toeing into your bedroom you were not surprised to find that Joey had taken up the entire bed after you had snuck out, lying on his back with his arms and legs spread out. He was still sleeping soundly, unaffected by any care in the world. It was so precious you almost regretted the fact that you were going to disturb him. That was not going to keep you from doing so however.

You carefully knelt on the lower end of the mattress before slowly crawling ahead and straddling him, not quite resting you weight on him yet. Hovering over him, you leaned down until your face was almost touching his neck and breathed in his scent for a few moments. Only then did you kiss the side of his throat, once, twice, moving from one side to the other and then towards his jaw.

Soon, he was stirring, and only moments later, his eyes opened. You rose back up, properly sitting on his pelvis now.

“Good morning, lover,” you smiled at him, watching the sleepiness gradually abandoning his face.

He lifted his arms to stretch them and then folded them, resting his head – all a mess of dirty blond hair – on them. “Morning, cutie.”

You giggled. You had reminded him so often of the fact that you were very much not cute, but rather a dangerous and extremely sensual woman, thank you very much… Oh well. Perhaps that was where your self-perception and the perception others had of you diverged. Greatly. But that was not important now anyways.

“Happy birthday,” you said softly. You were really hoping he was going to like what you had prepared for him. But since it was food, you were probably on the safe side.

“Happy anniversary,” he answered, leaning up to kiss you only to find you meeting him in the middle.

He had remembered! But then again, if your anniversary was on the same day as your birthday, that was probably not such a difficult feat.

One year already. It felt like you had met him only days ago.

* * *

You were waiting at the streetcar station on your way to college. Like you had done yesterday, like you had done the day before that, and the one before that, and the one before that… but not the one before that. It was Friday, which you were beyond grateful for. You could do with a day of free time or two. Or maybe not really free time – you had to work tonight after all.

The car soon pulled into the station, and it turned out you had been standing in the ideal spot as the doors ended up right in front of you. A press of a button later they opened, and just as you were stepping inside you heard a voice yelling from a little while away.

“Hold the door!!!”

You did not have to think twice. You were a nice person after all; of course you held the doors open for the stranger barreling towards you and the streetcar.

He squeezed inside just before they closed again, and you realized – without any ulterior motives (yet, at this point in time) – that he happened to be a rather attractive stranger. Around your own age, give or take a year or two, and half a head taller than you. He had the kind of hair that made you wonder whether he had woken up like that or whether it had taken him way too long in front of the mirror to make it look like he had woken up like that.

“Thanks,” he grinned at you, and off he was to find a seat.

“No problem,” you answered, but he had probably already been too far away to hear you.

* * *

By the time you saw him again, you had pretty much already forgotten about him already. Not that he was not memorable, but you saw dozens of strangers while commuting every day and simply did not have enough excess mental capacity to spend on thinking about them.

Perhaps you never would have wasted another thought on him if he had not been back on the very same streetcar as you exactly one week later.

You were sitting in one of the single seats on the right side of the car when you overheard a group of people talking loudly from the four grouped seats diagonally across from you.

When you let your eyes stray over towards them, you recognized him instantly. You noticed he had brown eyes. Another fact you semi-consciously added to the description of him that was forming in your mind.

He was surrounded by three people, two guys and a girl. She looked the most normal out of the three with her brown bob cut. One of the guys was brunette as well – though his hair seemed weirdly pointy. The fourth guy in the group managed to make that look normal in comparison however: he had a total of three different hair colors, and not one of them looked very natural to you. What a weird ensemble.

“But you gotta do something! It’s your birthday after all!” one of them said, and although you were only listening with one ear, you noticed it was addressed to your not-quite-acquaintance from last week. That also explained the small box sitting on his knees. Apparently his friends had brought him a gift. That realization made you smile. Hoping none of them had noticed it, you turned your head to the window… and kept listening.

“I dunno. Maybe? I don’t even know what I’d wanna do though.”

“We should totally go to a bar! You don’t turn 20 every day!” the girl replied.

Twenty. So he was younger than you then, if only slightly. The list of facts kept growing.

This was ridiculous, you decided. What if they caught you listening? (You were not sure how that would work, but you were still afraid it might.) They would think you were being creepy, and that was the last thing you wanted. So you did your best to intentionally not hear anything more of their conversation for the rest of the ride.

You watched the buildings moving past, slow at first while approaching and then quickly once they were near. Same procedure as every day before that. Same old, same old.

Only today, when you shook off your trance and turned to look which station was next up, you suddenly made eye contact with the blond stranger who was just leaving the car. On the spur of the moment you smiled at him.

He smiled back.

* * *

Later that same day (well, night by now) you had only just started your work shift.

The bar you worked at on the weekends was downtown and you never quite knew what to expect from the evening when you arrived. Some weekends it seemed to be the party location du jour, and just the week after you might actually have a somewhat relaxing shift for once with only a few groups of people crowding the place.

Tonight seemed to be turning out to be one of the latter. Just enough for you to do to keep you from getting needlessly bored but no actual stress so far. The night was still young however and things could always change.

They did not.

It was around 11 pm and you were finishing a couple of cocktails for a group of guests when you heard the scratch of one of the bar stools being moved behind you.

“Be right there!” you promised, finishing up the order and putting the tray down on the edge of the bar for one of your colleagues to get and carry to the according table.

You put on your big bartender smile and turned towards your new patron. Lo and behold, it was the smiling stranger.

“Hey there,” he said, flashing you a knowing smile.

“Welcome, what can I get you?” You were nothing if not professional, even in the face of your commute almost-crush.

“Two normal beers and two nonalcoholic ones.”

“Coming right up!” You were grateful for the chance to turn away again to collect yourself for a moment and get your face to look normal again. You began to pour the beers.

“So, we keep running into each other, huh?” He had a nice voice, a slightly playful twist to it no matter what he said.

“And here I was going to pretend I was incredibly cool and didn’t remember you,” you joked, finishing the third one and starting on the fourth. Once that was done, you turned back to him, placing the first pair on the bar.

“Ouch, you’re mean.” But the look he gave you told you he did not mean it. He had the nicest brown eyes.

“Not really. By the way, I promise I’m not stalking you,” you grinned, and he returned the favor.

“Well, I’m the one who walked into your workplace, so if anyone’s stalking anyone, it’d probably be me.”

“You never know!” You turned to get the remaining two beers and set them down in front of him. “Maybe I’m only pretending to work here. Maybe I’ve been following you all day!”

“I… somehow seriously doubt that.”

“And you’d be right about that. By the way, this is not going to affirm my claim about not stalking you, but I kinda overheard it was your birthday this morning?” Your voice trailed off, waiting for a reply.

“It is!” Apparently he did not think you were acting creepy. Phew.

“Well then, happy birthday! Your drink’s on me. Only the one though. I’d love to make the rest on the house too, but I… don’t have the money for that.”

“That’s cool. You’re cool. Thank you!”

“You’re welcome! Do keep buying more drinks. And don’t forget to tip me well. Even if it’s your birthday!”

“I will, nameless bartender who is not my stalker.”

You blushed a little at the flirty tone in his voice, but nonetheless gave him a smirk as you told him your first name. “What’s yours?” you asked him – finally.

“It’s Joey.”

* * *

Over the course of the night, Joey kept returning to the bar to get drinks, and with every visit, he stuck around a little longer than the last time.

Within no time you had found out more and more details about him – and the same rang true the other way around. You enjoyed talking to him. He was nice, responded to your flirty ways in kind and managed to take your mind off work for a little while.

Midnight came and went and around one in the morning or so, he returned to your work sphere (read: the bar) once more.

“You’re back! Yay!” You were not even hiding your excitement anymore at this point. The both of you had gotten along so well all night you had grown confident enough to show your appreciation for his presence. “What can I get you this time?”

“Nothing, I’m afraid,” he admitted, leaning on the bar with one elbow, his other hand moving to the back of his neck in what seemed to be slight bashfulness.

An unintended warm smile threatened to spread on your face any second. He had really grown on you, if something like that could be said after only a few conversations. 

“So you’re leaving?” you asked in return, putting down the glass you had just finished drying off.

“Yeah.”

“Well, it’s past midnight, so it’s not your birthday anymore, obviously.”

“Exactly. Anyways, I’m here because…” He paused.

You raised an eyebrow, waiting for him to finish. He had not been this awkward all night, so why now?

“…because I wanted to ask for your number.” His hand was still scratching at the back of his neck. 

You sighed in relief and smiled at him playfully. “Did you decide against it while walking over here or are you actually gonna do it?” Maybe if you dared him into it like this he would.

“I wanna, but I don’t wanna put you in a weird position, because you work here and all and I feel like I’d kinda be putting you on the spot.”

You beckoned him to lean over the bar with one finger. When he did, you leaned forwards so you could whisper into his ear. “Imma tell you a secret, Joey. I’m a nice person and all, but usually I don’t flirt with my patrons. Or pay for their drinks. Even if it’s their birthday. I’m nice, just not that nice. I guess what I’m saying is, you’re not only welcome to ask for my number, but I genuinely hoped you would.”

You took a step back while he straightened up again as well. Reaching into your industrial fanny pack, you pulled out a random scrap of paper and proceeded to write your phone number on it.

When you held it out towards him, he did not simply take the paper, but actually took your hand in his before pulling back and taking your number. His hand was warm, which was nice. Also significantly bigger than your own.

“Call me,” you requested, feeling rather confident in his intention to.

“I will!” He seemed no less confident in it.

“And then we can go somewhere where I’m not the one serving the drinks,” you added, giving him one last flirty smirk while he was already turning away. His friends, the same ones you had seen him on the streetcar with earlier today, were standing around near the exit, obviously waiting for him.

“Good idea. I think I ought to leave now, my friends are getting impatient. So, see you soon?”

“See you soon.” Hopefully very soon.

* * *

And now here you were, exactly one year later, kissing your boyfriend senseless on the morning of his birthday.

His arms were snaking around your torso, pulling you against him tightly before he flipped you over and climbed on top of you, his current intentions rather tangible in his eagerness. 

You sighed into his mouth, wanting quite badly to lose yourself in the moment and go along with it, but thinking better of it. Taking his face in both hands you pulled away, gently but with certainty. “I made you breakfast. It’s probably getting cold right now.”

That caught his attention immediately. “Breakfast?” And he was off you in a split second.

You followed him into the kitchen and sat across from him before the both of you proceeded to have breakfast together.

It was not a rarity at all; all that was unusual was that today, you had made it yourself. And if the way Joey did not show any intention to stop even after his third plate was any indication, he did not mind the alternating quality of your cooking.

You liked these mornings. Waking up next to him, making idle conversation over breakfast. Leaving the house together and meeting back up in the evenings, either at his place or once more at your own. You liked how easy things were with him. You had never expected that relationships could even work that way until he had come along.

And all because of a series of coincidences. There were so many things that could have gone differently that would have caused the two of you to never even meet at all.

If you had been more adamant about your plans of saving money for a motorcycle, you would no longer have been forced to use public transit at that point in time.

If Joey and his friends had gotten lucky with the first or second bar they had tried to find seats in that night, he never would have come around to your workplace at all.

So many things had had to go just right to make sure the two of you met, and that you met again, and then again.

But they had gone right. And while you did not believe in fate or karma or anything like that, sitting across from him now, on your anniversary, and realizing once more – like you did with each passing day – how much your feelings for him had grown and yet continued to grow…

Perhaps sometimes, you did not have to work for it, you thought.

Perhaps sometimes, the right things would just come your way on their own accord.

**Author's Note:**

> What do you mean, I have exams in two weeks and shouldn't be spending my time on writing? :o  
> If you would like to alleviate my guilty conscience, drop me a line. ♥


End file.
